


01. Pre-Game Sandwich

by theworstwolves



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Crack, Food Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, PLEASE DON'T PUT PEANUT BUTTER ON YOUR GENITALS, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:38:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9571979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theworstwolves/pseuds/theworstwolves
Summary: “Hey Zimms,” Kent says, “what’s the difference between peanut butter and jam?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Lord. 
> 
> When I thought of using pre-game sandwich as a prompt this came into my head and I decided I'd use it as my free space. Then it actually came up on my card, I might not even use it as part of my bingo but I needed to write this. 
> 
> I'm sorry.

It’s taken Bitty a while to get used to the domesticity of it all. Before, Kent would come in and out of their lives sporadically, staying over for away games against Providence or Boston, taking seven hour flights to stay for a night, making late night and early morning phone calls hoping to find a time when they could all talk. And then he turned up with pins in his leg, an annoyed looking cat under his arm and a frankly ridiculous CD collection. The pins are gone now, the cat mostly ignore them, the CD collection has been alphabetised and added to their shelves and, on days like today, Kent himself is sitting on his laptop at the breakfast bar while Jack makes his usual pre-game sandwich.

Bitty watches casually as Kent types and Jack spreads peanut butter evenly over two slices of bread, eyes more focused on his phone than his boyfriends. It’s not a scene worth paying attention to. Days like this are common now, Kent and Jack and Bitty, getting on with their lives and sharing their space like things were never any different.

“Hey Zimms,” Kent says, “what’s the difference between peanut butter and jam?”

Jack stops his spreading, looking up with a confused frown, “what?”

Kent sighs, “it’s a joke. What’s the difference between peanut butter and jam?”

“I don’t know,” Jack recites, monotone in the way he often is answering Kent’s jokes, acting far more disinterested than he actually is, “what is the difference between peanut butter and jam?”

“Well, I don’t want you to peanut butter your cock down my throat.”

Jack places the knife down and gives Kent a long, hard look.

“Get it?” Kent asks him, “because I really do want you to jam your –“

“I get it Kent.”

Bitty watches for a beat or two as they stare at each other before Jack’s face cracks into a grin and he starts to laugh. Kent’s got this self-satisfied smirk on his face and Bitty can’t help but roll his eyes at his two boys.  He sends a tweet about his kitchen being desecrated by inappropriate jokes and thinks nothing more of it.

_

Bitty’s lost track of the ridiculous, unfunny, inappropriate jokes Kent has made in the time he’s known him. They started when he was still awkward around them, all bravado and energy, masking the fear that this wouldn’t work out. Now he just says what’s in his head without a filter, there have been jokes about bowling balls and nuns and a million other things and none of them have really made an impact after the initial chuckle.

There’s no reason this one should be any different.

But, a week or two later Jack’s making dinner.

He’s mixing peanut butter with lime and soy sauce while Bitty works on dessert next to him and Kent sits on the kitchen counter watching them. Jack sticks his finger in the satay sauce, bringing it over to Kent as he asks, “what do you think? More lime?” Kent licks it off his finger and nods.

Jack adds the lime as instructed, before glancing over at Bitty, covering his finger once again with sauce and bringing it to Kent’s mouth, pushing it in passed his lips this time instead of just letting him lick it off the pads of his finger.

“Wasn’t there some comment about peanut butter, my cock and your throat?” he asks casually and Bitty’s eyes widen as he watches Kent turn an alarming shade of red. Kent swallows, hard, moving back from Jack’s finger and attempting to compose himself.

“Actually it was a comment about jam.”

“Hmmm,” Jack nods, “but you like peanut butter better.”

It’s bold of him, out of character even and Bitty remembers that it was Jack who offered to cook tonight, decided on what they’d be eating and that this means this is something Jack has quietly been thinking about for days, maybe since Kent made the joke. He looks over to Kent whose mouth is still hanging open, cheeks still tinged pink and realises that, for once, Jack read the situation far better than he ever could and set something in motion in a way only he could. Bitty tells them what he wants, demands even, knowing they’re happy to give it to him, Kent jokes, asks ‘what are you gunna do, spank me?’ and Jack, Jack manipulates situations without any of them realising, because he isn’t able to ask out loud.

“I do like peanut butter.” Kent tells him, throat clicking, “I like peanut butter a lot.”

There’s a heat in the room now and Bitty stops chopping chocolate, covers the burger patties Jack made earlier and places them both in the fridge. Kent and Jack are yet to break eye contact, watching each other and Bitty thinks they’re both wondering if they should pass this off as a joke. He hopes that they don’t.

He decides, after a few agonising moments of heated looks and bitten lips that if he wants this to go anywhere – and he does, God he does – that he’s the one who needs to hurry it along. Jack’s gotten himself this far but he won’t go any further, not without a push.

Bitty moves over to him and takes the mixing bowl off him, placing it to the side and taking the lid of the jar of peanut butter. He then makes his way over to Kent, “I think you’re in my seat honey.” He tells him, nudging at his thigh until Kent jumps down off the counter and Bitty can take his place.

Kent looks over at him, waiting for Bitty’s nod before stepping in front of Jack, tilting his head up to give him a chaste kiss before dropping to his knees, hands on his thighs.

“Fuck.” Jack says, and at the same time Kent comments,

“Didn’t realise you were already hard Zimms.”

“Like you’re not?”

“Stop being fucking smart and let me taste you.”

It’s strange, watching Jack undo his pants, pushing them down along with his boxers and then stopping dead, looking between Kent and Bitty as they both watch him, Kent also not making any attempt to move.

“Bits?” Jack asks, and though Bitty’s not sure what his question would be exactly he shakes his head.

“This is between you two; I’m just enjoying the show.”

“You sure Kenny?” Jack asks next and Bitty find it endearing, this small attempt to be dominant, without any input from Bitty. Giving Kent what he wants but still asking, still making sure.

“Of course I’m sure! Now stop making me think and feed me.”

Jack coughs but takes the hint, sticking his fingers into the jar of peanut butter and bringing them to Kent’s mouth. Kent latches around them, groaning as he bobs his head like he already has Jack’s cock in his mouth. He licks at Jack’s fingers as Jack pulls his hand away, tongue lapping up anything he might have missed.

“Fuck, you taste so good. I need more.”

Jack puts his fingers back in the jar and, as Bitty makes a mental note that they’ll need to buy more peanut butter, traces the substance along the side of his cock, painting a stripe and swirling what’s left on his fingers in precome. He’s silent, intense and this is something they’ll have to talk about later, when Jack’s no longer hard, once again unsure of his actions but right now his gaze is firm as he opens Kent’s mouth with his coated fingers, sliding his cock in alongside them.

Kent’s whole body shudders and Bitty finds himself wondering what Jack must taste like. What exactly Kent’s feeling right now, what they’re both feeling. He presses his palm against his crotch and rocks up into it.

Jack rocks his hips back and forward, finger and cock sliding into Kent’s mouth and stretching his lips wide. Kent has precome and spit and peanut butter on his chin and Bitty cannot believe how hot they both look.

Jack pulls his hand back, instead cupping the side of Kent’s head, pulling his down further, Kent gags a little, his eyes water and he _moans_. This is how Kent likes giving head. It’s less about giving and more about taking, taking whatever Jack, or Bitty or – on certain memorable occasions – both of them chose to give him. Bitty undoes his flies and starts rubbing himself through his boxers. Kent’s cock is hard and pressed against the front of his jeans. It must be uncomfortable, painful even. Kent must love it.

Jack’s fucking him in earnest now, pulling his cock back and shoving all the way back in, making Kent’s throat bob and his hands tense against his jeans. He looks away from Kent and across the room to Bitty, smiling at the way he’s working himself and Bitty knows what it is he needs.

“Jack you look so beautiful.” He tells him. “You must taste so good for him, and because you’re being so good for both of us when you come you’re going to make him taste all of it, you’re not going to let any out. I wouldn’t want to see either of you waste it.”

Jack jerks his hips again and comes as Bitty tells him how good he is. He grips at Kent’s head and holds him there, making him swallow and gag, work his throat hard, move his hand off his thigh to catch Jack’s come in his palm, push it back into his mouth as best he can.

Jack pulls back, finally, cock softening, chest heaving. He looks down at Kent, still on his knees, licking the mess off his hand and places the heel of his foot in Kent’s lap. Bitty’s done this dozens of times – let Kent rub himself against his foot, come in his pants – but Jack never has and Kent rests his face against his shin gratefully as he rolls his hips up and gets the release he needs.

They stay like that, Kent pressed against Jack’s leg, Jack with his arms wrapped around his head, holding him close. It’s tender, even against the cold kitchen floor with air that smells like sex and peanut butter.

Bitty does his pants back up, knowing that his erection will subside soon, that he didn’t need to come for this to be an enjoyable experience.  He walks over to them, pressing a kiss to Jack’s neck and running his fingers though Kent’s hair.

“You two go clean up. I’ll order us pizza.”

It will probably be a while before any of them can eat peanut butter.                              

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr as @[lesbianzimmermann](http://lesbianzimmermann.tumblr.com//)
> 
> [These](https://www.hellofresh.co.uk/recipes/pork-satay-burgers-57bec58192eec9e9648b4568/?back=/recipe/all) are the burgers Jack makes, I love them, but may no longer be able to eat them after this.


End file.
